That's how I feel.
I'm sorry.
I feel abstract tonight.
I feel abstracted.

It reminds me of a theory of mine.
It's called, I call it Spontaneous Simultude.
it goes something like this:
EVERYTHING IS LIKE SOMETHING,
ANYTHING LIKE SOMETHING ELSE.

And in technical terms I can express it algebraically:
A -
Gimme an "A," Allen.
"A"
A equals B.
"B."
You...
"U."
...bet.

Let's try it on for size.
Complete this phrase, David,
I AM LIKE __________
"I am like..."
Complete the phrase!
"I am like... a song."
See how that makes sense - 'I am like a song'!
Tony, complete this phrase,
I AM LIKE __________
"A train."
A train! Now, see how everything starts to make sense when you get spontaneous simultude goin here?
"Wait a minute, I've got another idea!"
No, you've had your turn.
Allen, I AM LIKE __________
"You."
Wow, yeah - ho-ho-ho!
Garo, complete this phrase,
I AM LIKE __________
[Mumble]
Like a what?
[Mumble]
Garo is from New York so we won't count him -
I'm going to complete a phrase now.
I AM LIKE A RED TIN BUS.
See how that makes sense?
It makes sense, doesn't it?

I am like a red tin bus,
made in Taiwan.
People's faces are painted on but they're painted on in alarm.
People would see me, they'd say,
"Man, who's that crazy bus driver sittin in that bus driver's seat?"

What Happened To Me
Such a thing could never happen to me
or anyone I know
Not I
Not me - at the bottom of the sea.
Not I, not me, at the bottom of the sea.

Such a thing could never happen to me
or anyone I know
To Pharoah, to Harold
to the Turks long ago -
they were all laid low
Not I
not me - at the bottom of the sea.
Not I, not me, at the bottom of the sea.

Hapless
hopeless
a figure of fun -
children are pointing
They're saying, "He's the one!"
Such a thing could never happen to me
or anyone I know.

So hapless
hopeless
a figure of fun -
children are pointing
saying, "He is the one!"
Such a thing never happens to me
or people that I know.
Not I, not they, not the sea.

Bicycle
Under the moonlight
a woman and her bicycle ahead of me
They float - carefree and buoyant
balanced in the air
They drift between the curves of a quiet street
between the banks of a slow deep stream.

Under the moonlight
the night breathes and it enfolds us
Its scent of warm skin is fragrant and fine
It binds us together
suspended in time
we drift with the current of a slow deep stream.

Remember this moment
Remember it tomorrow
at the edge of the Winter Lake
Remember,
say it out loud
Say it.

Monster Thinks About The Good Days
Monster Magee thinks about the good days ahead
Nothing is guaranteed
but nowhere is it said
that a fellow with shoes as big as a boat
can't be bound and determined to float.

And as the townspeople wave from the beach
the water pulls Monster more out of reach
Sky blue
Salmon sea
Gold's the color there's ought to be,

as Monster thinks about the days he's going to see.
Monster thinks about the days there's going to be.